I wish I wrote more when I was down bad

Huge emotional toll? More like creative ammunition :')

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Over the last couple of years during a variety of issues I was experiencing at any given point in time, I rarely wrote.

I’d journal almost everyday, but I wouldn’t write. I’d find reasons of why I shouldn’t, convincing myself that I needed to get through the issue first to have the benefit of hindsight and perspective to be able to truly articulate the experience in a way that could be relatable, and somewhat entertaining, for others to enjoy.

It wasn’t unless I was really, deeply struggling on certain days, with no clue of what else to do & who else to talk to, with no upcoming therapy appointments, that, in a fit of desperation, I’d turn to my creative writing notebook.

In those few moments, I’d write with no expectation, not caring if it made sense to the average reader, and understanding that it might only resonate to someone else going through the same thing.

And honestly, even if it didn’t, I didn’t care. I was writing for me and me only. I was writing to move through emotions that I felt I couldn’t express otherwise, to get the thoughts out of my head - as if by putting them on paper they would permanently live there.

I look back at those rare times and, despite the fact that they were born out of pure despair and utter distress, I read them with a smile on my face and tears of pride in my eyes.

That writing is real, it’s raw, and it’s emotional, in the absolute best way. It’s completely authentic to me and the life I was living at the time - a life that not many knew of.

And now…I’m through those dark times. I’m at the point where I do have the benefit of hindsight and perspective that I used to crave in order to make sense of those experiences. I now have the the ability, if desired, to share specific lessons that can be extended into broader life lessons for all to use. I am in the place that I used believe, convince myself even, would be ripe for writing.

But…I’m not writing.

I’m not diving back into that time period to remember how hard it was in order to bring true emotion into the words I write. I’m not writing piece after piece of the darkness that used to feel intertwined into all areas of my life.

Because, I’m on the other side - the side that the past version of myself fought for, the version of life she dreamt of on the days when she couldn’t get out of bed, when she couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.

And now that I am through it, I just want to enjoy where I am. I don’t have the energy to go back into that time in my life, even if only for creative purposes. One day I might (I really hope I do, boy would it be a good story), but for now, I’m good to enjoy the good.

Looking back, I wish I didn’t listen to the voice in my head convincing me to wait to write - to wait for time, for perspective, for whatever reason it could come up with at any given moment. I wish I had more of those authentic writings for they truly created the art that I am most proud of, the art that I would be more than happy to hang my hat on.

And so, my dear reader friend, what I’m really trying to say here in quite a long-winded way, is - write.

Write in the good moments - when you’re overjoyed with happiness and feel like life truly could never get better, that things are finally working out the way they’re supposed to.

Write in the mundane moments - when you feel like no one will care what you’re putting to paper and it really isn’t your best work.

And most importantly, write in the bad moments. Write with your heart on your sleeve, even if it’s intended only for you, for the best art is created with a scary amount of vulnerability.

But, vulnerability, that is the key to human connection. When you think you’re the only one feeling something, the only one going through a certain experience, and then you find there are many, many others feeling the exact same way as you, that can find solace in your words, among the understanding that they too are not alone.

Your words, even when in the deep darkest moments of despair, are a gift to be shared. Share it.

xo